


I'll Be Super For You

by whenshewrites



Series: SterekWeek2020 [2]
Category: Superman - All Media Types, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale as Superman, Derek Hale is a Softie, First Kiss, Fluff, Halloween, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Stiles's Love for Batman, sterekweek2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27237262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenshewrites/pseuds/whenshewrites
Summary: Stiles really hadn’t expected Derek to dress up for the costume party, but then the man showed up full Superman.For a moment, all Stiles could do was stare.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: SterekWeek2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1990420
Comments: 22
Kudos: 362





	I'll Be Super For You

Stiles really hadn’t expected Derek to dress up for the costume party.

Sure, he’d passed along the invitation weeks ago. Lydia was throwing a big Halloween party at her lake house and the entire pack was invited. She’d thrown one every year, Stiles was pretty sure. But before, he hadn’t been nearly popular enough to get an invite.

He supposed after how many times they’d all nearly died together, this year made sense.

Lydia had ‘highly suggested costumes, but not if they were going to embarrass her’ to which Stiles had decided to go as his favorite superhero. This was the one time he could come face-to-face with monsters and _not_ fear for his life, so of course, he was going to enjoy it. And he planned on wearing that one Batman costume he’d bought years back but hadn’t been able to wear because Beacon Hills was on the verge of being Alpha pack bait or something.

He couldn’t remember exactly. They faced a lot of threats.

Still, he was planning on enjoying his last Halloween before college. The entire pack seemed excited, to be honest. Except for Derek, but that didn’t really surprise him.

But then Derek showed up full Superman.

The party was going fine at first. Stiles tried to pretend like he knew the groups of people Lydia kept dragging him into, but he was really just flailing around. Scott and Allison had vanished about five minutes into arrival and Stiles had no wish to find the betas.

They were probably doing something that Derek had forbidden. And there was no way Stiles was getting dragged into the grumpy-growly Alpha’s wrath if they got caught.

Erica had seemed more than excited to scare innocent children with her flashing yellow eyes and gleaming fangs this year. Stiles didn’t want to see how that ended.

Probably with someone calling the cops.

So Stiles continued to follow Lydia around as she maintained her position of ‘the best host to ever grace Beacon Hills’. He was a little dubious at first to accept the punch she shoved into his hand, but after a warning look and whispered _“It’s not spiked this time, Stiles”_ he knew better than to cross the fiery-haired banshee.

At some point, they ended up in the backyard, where a large bonfire was going. Stiles held his cup of punch close to his chest as he approached it, gazing over the crowd of people that he really didn’t know too well.

There were a few werewolf costumes. They didn’t look nearly as terrible as the real thing.

Stiles was disappointed at the lack of sideburns.

“Shooting star,” Lydia said suddenly, nudging him in the side and nodding upward. Stiles followed her gaze to see an ending flash of light and snorted, glancing sideways.

“Make a wish.”

“For no one to spill red wine on the carpet this time,” Lydia said, sniffing. She gave him an expectant look and Stiles blinked for a moment before glancing up at the night sky again.

“I dunno,” he said. “For costumes to just be costumes tonight. No monsters, no threats. I just want the costumes to be the most real thing here.”

Lydia huffed and Stiles shrugged. Internally, that probably wasn’t what he really wished for. He wished Derek would have shown up. In a costume, if he was pushing his luck. And maybe the man wouldn’t be such a grumpy-growly ball of fur for once.

“This is the one night where monsters aren’t really monsters,” Stiles said. “I’ll take what I can get.”

“Right,” Lydia said, pushing her empty cup into his hands. “Well, make yourself useful then and go get us some refills.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, but took the cup anyway. Moving back into the crowded house, he headed toward the living room, where the most noise was. A scan of the room showed no sign of Scott or the betas, but Stiles wouldn’t be too surprised if Scott and Allison had left already, to be honest. 

And he didn’t even want to know what the others had gotten up to.

The kitchen was far too crowded when Stiles tried to make his way to the punch bowl. By the time he finally made it through the throng of people, the bowl was empty.

Stiles groaned and pushed back through the crowd. But instead of making his way out back again, he found himself shoved along until he was pressed up against the front door, the only escape being to duck out that way instead.

There were fewer people littering the front lawn. Stiles sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, wondering if he really had been lucky all those years of not being invited to parties like this.

Then somewhere behind him, there was a shout.

And Stiles turned right around into a very firm and very familiar chest.

He’d stop to consider that last part later.

For a moment, all he could do was stare. Mostly at Derek’s chest, which Stiles would also stop to consider later. Maybe. Possibly. Probably not.

This was so going to be a memory that he shoved deep, deep down.

Slowly, Stiles glanced upward. And then he did another double-take, staring at Derek and his shaved face, along with hair that he was pretty sure Derek had spent hours styling. Which didn’t sound like the grumpy-growly werewolf at all. Derek didn’t even bother to shave for weeks, sometimes.

“Stiles,” Derek said, his voice practically a growl “What the hell did you do?”

Yeah, something was wrong. And all Stiles had wanted was one night off.

“Uh,” he said, blinking. “What?”

The man glared down at him and Stiles was pretty sure he’d grown an inch or two. Or maybe he was just losing his mind. Blinking at the two empty cups in his hands, Stiles vaguely wondered if Lydia had been wrong and the punch was poisoned once more. Only this time, he was seeing the weirdest things instead of his worst nightmare. 

Because no way in hell was this his worst nightmare. Slowly, Stiles looked back up. “Dude, I’m so confused.”

“Something happened,” Derek growled. “What did you do?”

“How the hell should I know?”

Derek glowered and glanced around, folding his arms over his chest. People were staring now, Stiles realized, whispering among themselves as they pointed. And Derek’s face tightened more and more to each word that Stiles couldn’t make out.

Snapping back to reality, he set the cups down and grabbed Derek’s arm, intending to drag him somewhere more concealed. But then Stiles froze, glancing down at Derek’s arm and back up at his face.

“Geez, dude, is that actual armor?”

Derek glared. Stiles moved his hands up the man’s arms and then placed both palms on Derek’s chest, eyes widening.

“Holy crap, it is.”

“Stiles, get your hands off of me.”

Stiles blinked, and then blushed, quickly drawing back. He felt kind of small and pitiful next to Derek, his own Batman costume consisting of just a t-shirt with a built-in cape. He’d had a whole mask earlier, but ended up ditching it when it got too hot. 

Stiles tilted his head now and studied Derek from head to toe before shaking his head.

“I’m so going to regret not bringing the others out to see this.”

Derek growled and Stiles was pretty sure his eyes would be Alpha red by now; the man seemed angry enough. And there was definitely a bit of red, but it didn’t seem normal. Swallowing hard, Stiles grabbed Derek by the arm again and dragged him toward the trees, away from the stares and whispers.

He didn’t like the whole clean face thing. It was unnerving. Derek always looked so grumpy with the beard and bushy eyebrows and now he just looked… different. If the man broke out into a smile and levitated a few feet off the ground, Stiles might actually have a heart attack.

Because like this, Derek really could be a Superman lookalike. If he wasn’t glaring so much, that is.

“Okay, okay,” Stiles said, talking more to himself than the werewolf. “Should we go to the loft? Or Deaton’s? Or something. What the hell happened?”

“I didn’t do this on purpose,” Derek said sharply. “Something happened.”

Stiles finally stopped and turned back toward the man, studying him dubiously. “Like what? You magically appeared as Superman’s double?”

“I didn’t do this,” Derek growled out again. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, you’ve said that. And it’s super helpful.”

“It was just a costume before.”

Now, _that_ was something. Stiles blinked and raised an eyebrow. “It was what?”

Derek’s face turned red and his eyes did a little too. The man folded his arms over his chest, glaring at the ground, and shuffled a little bit before answering. 

“It was a costume before.”

“It was— wait, you dressed up as Superman?”

“You invited me,” Derek said flatly. He was still glaring at the ground. 

Stiles stared. “You were actually going to come?”

“Stiles, that’s not the point here.”

“Oh— oh yeah,” Stiles said, snapping back to reality. “Right. So, um, what changed?”

For a moment, he didn’t get an answer. But then Derek grunted, shuffled again, and suddenly his feet were inches off the ground. Stiles didn’t even have a chance to react before he was swept up bridal style and they were launching up into the air.

Flying. Derek was _flying_.

For a moment, Stiles really thought he had died and gone to heaven. Or maybe this was just a dream. A spiked punch, drug-induced dream.

Finally, a half-scream, half-yelp broke from his lungs. Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck and tried not to flail out of the man’s arms, pretty sure his stomach had been left on the ground. Because this was not cool. This was so not cool.

“Derek, what the actual _fuck?”_

Derek didn’t answer and Stiles squeezed his eyes tightly shut, burying his face in the man’s neck. He was downright terrified of heights and this was his worst nightmare. Ever. So maybe the punch had been spiked and Stiles was totally going to die.

He didn’t realize he’d stopped breathing until suddenly, they weren’t moving anymore. There was no more air whistling in Stiles’s ears and he didn’t feel like he was going to fall to his death in a matter of seconds.

Slowly, cracking one eye open, Stiles gazed around.

They were on the roof of the loft.

Yanking away from Derek’s hold, Stiles stumbled back. The man looked a little too pleased with himself, which was a complete one-eighty from how pissed he had been earlier. Dropping down to his knees, Stiles tried to find his grounding and did his best not to spiral into a full-blown panic attack, glaring when Derek finally took a step forward.

“What the hell was that?”

“I told you,” Derek said, the self-satisfied look fading. “Something happened.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, rising shakily to his feet. He looked at Derek and finally realized why that red in his eyes had looked so unnatural. “Oh my god, dude. You’re Superman.”

“What.”

“You’re Superman,” Stiles said again. “Like, for real.”

Derek was looking at him with a flat expression, but Stiles had never been more sure about anything. Glancing up at the night sky, he spotted a flash of silver across the horizon and suddenly, another realization came crashing over him. And his heart lodged in his throat when it did.

“Which I think might be my fault.”

-

To be fair, Stiles didn’t actually believe in wishing on shooting stars. And he’d never expected anything like this to come true. It was one thing to want a peaceful night for once— it was another entirely to accidentally wish Derek into Superman.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine by tomorrow,” Stiles said. “Right?”

Derek was just standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at the ground. It took him a long moment to finally look up and when he did, Stiles couldn’t read the man’s expression. “You wanted me at the party.”

“...Maybe?”

“In a costume.”

“Yeah, but that totally wasn’t why you showed up full Superman—”

“Without being a _‘grumpy-growly ball of fur’_?”

Stiles winced. “Well, when you say it like that, it sounds a lot worse than it is. I was just bored, dude! And I didn’t actually expect you to show up or anything. I mean, Lydia wished for clean carpets! What was I supposed to say? I don’t care about carpets!’

When Derek looked at him, Stiles still couldn’t tell if he was pissed or maybe a little murderous. The eyebrows were usually telling enough, but Derek’s entire face was different without his beard. Stiles still didn’t like it.

“Should we go to Deaton’s then?”

“I am not going to Deaton looking like this.”

“Dude, come on,” Stiles said. “You’re freaking Superman! Like, with the eyes and flying and everything! Oh my god, do you think you’re invincible too?”

“I’d rather not find out,” Derek said, turning away. For a moment, Stiles thought the man was going to take off and leave him on the roof, but then Derek just growled and turned around again. “You did this to me.”

“On accident.”

The man didn’t answer. Stiles chewed nervously on his lower lip.

“I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, Sourwolf. I do like your grumpy-growly ball of fur self, you know.”

Derek still stayed quiet. Stiles sighed and sat down, pulling his knees into his chest. The air was colder up here and he was in nothing but short-sleeves, unable to help shivering. His shirt-cape fluttered in the wind, but it was nothing compared to Derek’s.

And why couldn’t Stiles have wished himself into being Batman or something?

Next time.

“Sorry, big guy,” Stiles muttered. “Really.”

He couldn’t really blame Derek if the man decided to leave him up here stranded. But instead of saying anything, Derek moved over and sat down beside him. Stiles glanced over in surprise, and Derek avoided his gaze.

“Sourwolf?”

“I was going to come,” Derek said. “To the party.”

Stiles wasn’t sure how to answer that. He’d invited the man, sure, but he also knew crowds weren’t Derek’s scene. Stiles had mostly done it because he was an idiot. And he could dream, right?

“I know you like DC,” Derek murmured. Stiles’s heart did a little leap.

“Wait, you were going to come for me?”

The man didn’t answer. But Stiles could’ve sworn his ears turned a little red at that. Grinning slightly to himself, he glanced down at his hands.

“Well, I think you make a good Superman.”

“This had better be gone by tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, snorting. “Or you know, maybe you could be the super sexy superhero-slash-alpha of Beacon Hills and smite anyone who dared—”

_“Stiles.”_

“Right,” Stiles said, blushing. “Gone by tomorrow.”

Derek glanced over at him and Stiles managed a small smile. He still couldn’t get over how strange all of this was, but he supposed they’d seen stranger. Right? Compared to Alphas, kanimas, and every other Monster of the Week, this was just another bump in the road.

Still, this was a Halloween that Stiles was never going to forget.

“You know,” Stiles said, not quite meeting Derek’s eyes now. “Other than doing the Spiderman upside-down kiss someday, I always thought it’d be pretty cool to kiss Superman.”

Derek stiffened. Stiles bit down on his lower lip.

And maybe that was one step too far. Maybe Stiles was going to get tossed right off the roof.

Derek was quiet for a long moment. Stiles could feel him staring, his throat tightening a little. Because he hadn’t drank nearly enough of Lydia’s punch to be make decisions this dumb. Words formed an excuse on Stiles’s tongue but before he could say a word, glancing back toward the man, there was the press of warm lips against his own.

_Wait._

Stiles couldn’t tell what was taking him off guard more. The lack of stubble or the fact that _Derek Hale_ was actually kissing him. For a moment, Stiles’s brain short-circuited and he decided that if he was hallucinating this whole thing, he never wanted it to stop.

Could he say he’d kissed both Derek Hale and Superman now? Because Stiles was totally going to.

It took him a moment to finally snap back to reality and kiss Derek back. And when he did, pressing forward eagerly, the man hummed around his lips. Stiles couldn’t help but grin a little, feeling kind of tipsy and wondering if anyone would ever believe him. 

Probably not.

But this was happening.

“Batman kissing Superman,” Stiles managed, breathless as Derek pulled back. “You realize this is the stuff of fan fiction, right?”

Derek just rolled his eyes, tangling a hand through Stiles’s hair and pulling him in again. And out of the corner of his eye, Stiles could’ve sworn he saw a flash of light streak across the sky once more.

But he just closed his eyes this time, giving into Derek fully. Because to be honest, he had no more wishes left.

This night couldn’t get any more perfect.

-

When they woke up the next morning, Derek was back to normal, and Stiles could indeed say then that he’d kissed both Derek Hale and Superman. And he was so focused on that, he almost forgot they were stranded.

His dad and the rescue team had some questions— which Stiles didn’t even know how to begin to answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SterekWeek2020 and I had so much fun with this one! I've always wanted to do something involving Superman!Derek Hale and I figured this was as good of a time as any. Of course, I'd love to hear what you all thought <3


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